When she inherited the baronetcy, there would no longer be a need to steal. The coin her escapades provided would be nothingcompared to the good her fortune could achieve. The baronetcy would make her one of the wealthiest women in the kingdom. Her father had wisely invested in the East India Company, which brought rich spices, fine silks, and tea from around the world to the island nation’s shores. Winnie eagerly anticipated the day when she could use her wealth to help those less fortunate, those whose daily struggles were a battle to survive.
Pleased with her plans, she smiled at her reflection and blew herself a kiss.You are a cunning girl.
“Thomas, please see that Masq is bathed and brushed, and prepare a lovely mash for him. I rode him a great distance today, and he has been such a good boy.” She patted and rubbed Masq’s cheeks.
“Yes, your ladyship. I will see to it,” said Thomas. He was not only a groom but also Winnie’s confidant, and he knew of her adventures. It would have been impossible to continue her subterfuge without his help. He was her cover when her grandmother sent the butler Gerald to inquire about her whereabouts.
She leaned in and whispered, “Thomas, I finagled a very large purse today, and the gentleman was quite clever, which made it all the more fun.”
“Please be careful, m’lady. It would not go well if you were recognized.”
The earnestness in Thomas’s puppy-dog eyes warmed her heart. “Don’t worry. I am cautious. He was interesting to observe in so many ways, and I must admit I am curious about who he might be.”
Thomas’s brow furrowed.
“Don’t fret. It’s unlikely I will ever see him again. Still, I did enjoy the encounter, as it made relieving him of his guineas all the more satisfying.”
Winnie walked through the kitchen garden, where the scent of fresh herbs punctuated the air. She snipped sprigs of rosemary and thyme and pressed them to her nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance.Hmm, the smell of herbs is so invigorating.She couldn’t wait to get upstairs and have her lady’s maid bring her lavender for her bath so that she might cleanse herself of the dust from the road.
In the kitchen, various servants were busy preparing supper. Cook leaned over, checking the oven, and then stirred the simmering pot hanging above the fire in the hearth. Spread across the workstation were dishes in various stages of preparation. Winnie grabbed an apple on her way out of the kitchen and waved to the workers. The well-treated staff were highly protective of her, and she could count on their support in every way. Since she’d lost her dear brother and parents, these non-blood-related people were her family. She counted on them, and they could count on her. Another of the projects she could not wait to tackle was updating and improving the farmsteads of her land tenants.
Winnie would have loved to take the servants’ stairs, but she did not wish to risk her grandmother hearing of it. Grandmama strictly upheld social rules and considered privacy inviolable. The exclusivity of the servants’ using the backstairs leading to the third floor where they lived when on duty was one. Winnie slipped from the kitchen into the dining room and quietly made her way to the grand stairway leading to the manor’s upper floors. She’d begun her ascent on tiptoes when her grandmother’s voice cut into her progress.
“Edwina, is that you?”
Winnie froze. Did she dare run up the stairway to her bedroom, pretending she hadn’t heard?
She’d raised her foot, ready to make a dash for it, when she heard, “Lady Edwina.” Gerald, the butler, was calling her from the bottom stair. “Her ladyship will see you in the drawing room.”
Drat.With a last longing-filled gaze upward, she turned around and descended. “Thank you, Gerald. I will go to her now.”
It was the last thing she wanted to do. Lately, her conversations with her grandmother had become a battle of wills she tended to lose.Grandmama was wily and sharp as a tack. She suffered no fools, and Winnie had trouble holding her own. She loved her grandmother and knew the woman only had her best interests at heart, so consequently, Winnie had been reduced to subterfuge rather than argument. It was the only way for her to exert her independence.
The drawing room was one of Winnie’s favorite rooms in her ancestral home. Her mother’s hand was evident in every aspect of the elegant room, from the blue-striped wallpaper to the gilded furnishings. The room beckoned, even more so with a cheery fire burning brightly in the hearth. Above the mantel was an unconventional oil portrait of her mother. Winnie glanced at the painting, fighting back the tears that instantly filled her eyes. She missed her mother immeasurably.
The painting of the red-haired woman was captivating. Instead of the customary frozen pose of a seated, motherly, and demure woman, Wilhemina Sinclair sat sidesaddle on a gray stallion who reared, his forelegs pawing the sky. The painting displayed the baroness as an expert horsewoman, conveying that Wilhemina was unafraid of whatever challenge she faced. As a wife, she’d been both companion and advisor to Winnie’s father, a man who adored her to his dying breath.
The dowager baroness sat on the sofa and poured tea from a silver teapot. “Edwina, come sit so that we might chat.”
Winnie kissed her grandmother on her cheek and sat down.
Felicia Randolf Sinclair handed her a cup of tea and sighed. “Edwina, you left early this morning. Where did you go today? You were gone for hours.”
Winnie fortified herself with a sip of tea, stalling her reply. “Nowhere really, Grandmama. I took my usual path to the Thames, and I road Masquerade along the banks. It’s been so dreary and wet lately that I wanted to take advantage of a day of sunshine and enjoy the autumnal foliage.”
“Yes, I imagine it’s quite lovely outside. Your father and mother always enjoyed a good, long ride when the weather allowed.” Felicia served a lemon scone with a dollop of clotted cream and handed it to Winnie. “Here, my dear, you must be exhausted from such strenuous activity.” The dowager baroness arched a delicate eyebrow, which she did when she suspected Winnie of not being completely forthcoming with the truth, which was often the case. Sometimes, Winnie wondered if that brow ever relaxed and returned to a position of peaceful acceptance.
“Thank you, Grandmama.” Winnie took a bite of the lemony delicacy, glad that polite conversation would have to wait at least until she swallowed the bite of scone and sipped her tea.
“I have a little story to tell you. An introduction that will explain my news for you.”
Oh dear, this can’t be good.“Yes, Grandmama.” Winnie set her teacup down and turned an attentive face toward her grandmother.
“Growing up in Northumberland, I had a very good friend who lived at a nearby estate. As the years passed, Bess blossomed and was blessed with remarkable beauty, and I was quite jealous of her stunning countenance. I will add that she was not only a sight to behold, but she also possessed a clever mind and an infallible memory. Her chances to marry, well, in truth, were undeniably better than mine, but life is not always kind, as you know, Edwina, having lost your dear papa, mama, and your brother Bennet.”
Winnie’s puzzled gaze prompted a response from Felicia. “Never rush a story, my darling, when the ramifications will affect one’s future.”
My future? Wherever is she going with this?Winnie’s back stiffened, but she forced her lips into an accepting smile.
